


Equilibrium

by mariaWASD



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Dominant Sherlock, Ficlet, Hand Jobs, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Switching, submissive John
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-29
Updated: 2018-01-29
Packaged: 2019-03-10 22:41:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13511247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mariaWASD/pseuds/mariaWASD
Summary: I submitted this toalexxphoenix42for her birthday and meant to post it here as well but then forgot. I've just found it again and thought better late than never, right?Thank you again, Alexx, for always being lovely and doing so much to satisfy our fic cravings. <3





	Equilibrium

**Author's Note:**

  * For [alexxphoenix42](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alexxphoenix42/gifts).



> I submitted this to [alexxphoenix42](http://alexxphoenix42.tumblr.com/) for her birthday and meant to post it here as well but then forgot. I've just found it again and thought better late than never, right? 
> 
> Thank you again, Alexx, for always being lovely and doing so much to satisfy our fic cravings. <3

The bed sheets rustled, the evening sun was slowly moving past the skyline and dipped the bedroom in a deep red light. 

All lights were turned off, they didn’t need it. What they couldn’t see, they felt with hands and mouths and other senses took over, heightened by the intensity of the moment, by the endorphins and hormones running though their bodies. 

Sherlock was on his elbows and knees, hovering over John and caging him in as tightly as he could. His lips were sealed to John’s, tongues entwined into a slow dance while his hands moved to caress every inch they could reach. 

Tonight was all about John, every single second, every action, every movement was for John’s pleasure only. Tonight, Sherlock put himself completely behind, maybe he would come, maybe not, it didn’t matter. What mattered was that John could let go, completely. 

Sherlock had noticed the moment John had shut the front door with much more force than usual, climbed the seventeen steps with a strong unevenness that he only got when it had been a particularly bad day. 

The look on John’s face when he entered the sitting room confirmed what Sherlock already knew. 

So Sherlock had closed his laptop, put his phone on silence and taken John’s jacket off him, had untied his shoes and wordlessly guided him to their bedroom where he had pulled the rest of John’s clothes off and laid him on the bed. 

“Hands over your head, close your eyes,” Sherlock whispers into John’s ear, but the softness of the first spoken words of the day didn’t lack any strength. 

It was a marvel seeing his husband this way, submissive and ready to give up all control, to let the only person he would ever trust this much make the decisions, to let someone else see him at his most vulnerable. 

Of course John would have never said anything about this, but the first time a situation like this happened in their new relationship, Sherlock had realised that although John was perfectly at home in his part as a dominant partner, there were times those roles had to be reversed and that no one of John’s partners had ever seen or acknowledged those needs. 

Tonight, Sherlock knew John was tired, exhausted, shoulder and leg hurting and knew drawing this out the way he would love to, giving John hours of ecstasy would be the opposite of helping. 

Reaching to his right, he grasped a small bottle of lube, coated his hand in a thin layer and waited a few seconds to let it warm before slowly reaching for John’s cock, laying hard and hot on his stomach. 

John gasped at the first contact, breathing out a quiet, “Sherlock”. 

“You know the rules, John. You can ask for permission, but I will decide when you come.” 

He began stroking, watching and cataloging every twitch of John’s muscles, how he writhed and tossed his head from left to right, already panting and tiny pearls of sweat forming between his brows. 

It took 86 seconds before John panted his first, “May I come?” but Sherlock brushed it of with a simple, “No” and continued to stroke John, adding a small flick of his wrist at the head of John’s cock. 

Half a minute later, John’s chest was arched off the bed, knuckled turned white and breathing uneven. “May…may I…please. Please,” was all John could mewl between short breaths. 

But Sherlock was still not ready to let John come, instead peppered his jaw with little kisses and whispered, “Good boy,” into John’s skin, knowing that there were still some seconds John could hold off his orgasm and he was determined to bring John to the absolute edge. 

He counted down the seconds in his mind, could see that John’s peak was inevitable, far beyond his control no matter how much he wanted to follow Sherlock’s orders. 

John breathed an almost devastated, “No,” at the same time Sherlock finally ordered, “Come, John,” watching in awe at the intensity of John crashing over the edge and spilling onto his belly in a silent scream. 

Sherlock cuddled close while he let John come down from his high, muscles relaxing and short panting returning to deep, even breaths. 

Eyes closed and basking in the closeness, Sherlock’s heart dropped to the floor when he heard John starting to sob almost too quiet to hear. He jerked upright, turning to face John fully. 

“Shh. John, what’s wrong, talk to me, please,” he pleaded frantically. 

John shook his head. “I’m sorry, sorry. I don’t know what happened.” 

Sherlock carefully slid his hand behind John’s head, lightly searching his scalp. “Shh. It’s alright. You have nothing to apologise for.” 

Teary eyes opened and locked onto his and the emotions behind them made Sherlock gasp.

“Thank you, Sherlock. I…needed this,” John said, but averted his eyes again. 

“Look at me,” Sherlock ordered softly and when those deep blue eyes found his again, he continued, “You are allowed to have this, to feel this way and to ask for it whenever you want, not just when I know you need it. Understood?” 

John took a deep, relieved breath. “Yes…understood.” 

“Good.”

“Sherlock?”

“Yes?” 

“I love you.” 

“I love you too, John.”


End file.
